


Again

by Naite_Laef



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Moving On, Self-Esteem, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko's Scar (Avatar)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:42:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23435623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naite_Laef/pseuds/Naite_Laef
Summary: Never give up without a fight- It's a lesson Zuko has learned over and over and over again.
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), Zhao & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 333





	Again

"Again."

His breathing fell out of rhythm when he jumped between his two sparring partners. With no air in his lungs to expel as he hit the deck of the ship, he felt his chest burn with the need to gulp for air. He broke his fall with a roll, using the momentum to bring him to his feet once more. He grit his teeth to keep from panting, though he knew his uncle would know regardless. Uncle knew everything. Arms raised, ready to attack once more, Zuko mirrored the rigid stances of the soldiers across from him. They all stood still, eyes locked on one another as they awaited further instruction.

General Iroh stood from his chair with a grunt, and the three sparring partners dropped their stances. "No," Iroh said, his exasperation almost palpable.

Zuko turned to look at the old man, already scowling in anticipation of a lecture.

"Power in firebending comes from the breath," Iroh repeated, voice stern, for perhaps the hundredth time since he started training the teen three years ago. "It does not come from the muscle." He inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, as if to demonstrate. After a moment, he released the air from his mouth slowly, a faint trail of steam escaping his lips. "The breath becomes energy in the body," he continued, taking a regular breath next. "And the energy extends past your limbs and becomes-"

His hand cut through the air, sending a burst of flame straight towards his nephew's face.

"-Fire."

The master firebender could tell it took every ounce of Zuko's discipline to keep still. The heat from the carefully-controlled blaze just barely brushed across his nephew's skin. Not enough to hurt, but certainly enough to be felt.

Zuko's dark hair lashed out behind him from the force of the blow, but the teen did not waver in his resolve. Smoke rolled off his gaze in waves, as though the scarred flesh of his eye had continued to burn every moment of the past three years. But much like everything that didn't further his nephew's quest for the Avatar, Zuko ignored it. 

Two sets of amber eyes locked onto one another, looking at each other, but not really seeing. Instead, an unspoken acknowledgement passed between them. Iroh gave a small nod of satisfaction, conscious of the subordinates watching the interaction.

It had taken three years of training to make it to such a moment- the moment where Iroh finally knew his nephew no longer feared fire. And for him to risk such a bold action in front of the two soldiers Zuko had been training with was a sign of Iroh's faith in his nephew. It didn't matter if the prince was of age now. While he was a man in the eyes of their nation at 16-years-old, he would forever be a child in the eyes of his uncle. 

After all, it had been Uncle Iroh who swept together the burned pieces of a scared boy, and nurtured the angry young man who rose from the ashes. 

"Again," Zuko demanded. His bare shoulders heaved with exertion, and the bandage covering his newly-acquired burn was nearly soaked through with sweat. Yet the 13-year-old boy didn't falter in his request. He only dug his heels further into the metal floor, tensed his jaw harder, and clenched his pale fists tighter. "I can take more!" he snarled, voice climbing in pitch.

"Little Prince," Iroh started, his aged face impassive. His voice betrayed him, though, softened with the term of endearment reserved only for his nephew. "I believe we have done enough for today-"

"No," Zuko screamed, amber eyes wild with obsession. "I can do this!"

"Prince Zuko," Iroh said sharply, his brow furrowing as he tried to get the boy before him to listen. "Please-"

"Again!" 

Crinkled eyes squeezed shut for a moment, unsure of what to do. For a moment, the only sound was that of Zuko's haggard breathing; wild, uncontrolled, and unfit for firebending. Then Iroh's palm struck with a whoosh, and a warm flash lit the empty deck of the warship. The shrill cry flew from Zuko's throat without warning, and Iroh immediately severed the connection to his element. He closed the four feet between them in one swift leap, catching the panicked boy before his knees could hit the ground. 

"Zuko!" Iroh hissed, voice hushed with worry and regret. "Are you okay?" In lieu of an answer, the boy slumped against his uncle's chest, shaking uncontrollably as the memory of red-orange light continued to dance behind his eyes. The older man craned his neck down, trying to catch a glimpse of his nephew's face. He hadn't actually burned Zuko- only startled him- but Iroh checked him over just to be sure.

Warm hands wrapped around the boy's back, ready to comfort, but Zuko jerked free of the embrace without warning. He stood on slightly unsteady feet, making a beeline for the stairs. 

"Nephew," Iroh called, regret heavy in his features. "Nephew, please-"

"Don't," Zuko snapped, voice cracking as his anger reached disastrous new heights. His head whipped around to glare at his uncle, only one golden eye visible. The harsh sunlight deepened the lines of his face, and combined with a general lack of sleep, the boy looked far older than he should have. The expression on his face froze Iroh in place, allowing the teen to finish his escape in shameful silence. 

The former general stood alone on the deck until high noon, the sun at his back only adding to the sensation of being cooked alive in his light set of armour. His toes twitched, wanting so desperately to follow his nephew inside, but he couldn't. Because that look of utter betrayal had shaken him to the core. Iroh felt his stomach drop at the mere thought of losing another child.

If his father's violence and abandonment hadn't yet broken Prince Zuko, Iroh would've sworn that training mishap had done so. However, much to the man's surprise, Zuko came to him the following day with more demands, as though his near-breakdown had never happened. They started from the very beginning, with breathing techniques and firebending theory. No matter how logical Iroh's arguments were, the man could not sway his nephew from training. Conversely, Iroh refused to start anywhere but the basics, and on this matter, Zuko could not convince him otherwise. The official reasoning, Iroh had explained, was simply a precaution in case the boy's eye didn't heal properly. In that case, Zuko would need to be able to bend with altered depth perception and balance. Thus, he needed to relearn the basics. The underlying issue at hand went undiscussed. Zuko had lost so much more than either of them initially realised after the Agni Kai. The day his own element had been turned against him, Zuko lost a precious part of his soul. 

"You will teach me the advanced set," Zuko growled, the warped scar tissue just inches from Iroh's face. The teen towered over his uncle, and not just in height. He seemed larger than life with a full set of royal armour strapped to his muscular frame, steel-toed boots larger than any boy his age could ever hope to fill. 

It actually unnerved Iroh, the person Zuko had become. Though, the man knew without a doubt that he much preferred it to the haunting look in his nephew's eyes that one day at sea, three years ago. The moment when Zuko thought his uncle would turn on him just as his father had. 

"Again," Iroh said simply.

The 16-year-old screamed with impatience. His foot slipped, his root broke, and he just barely managed to evade an oncoming blast. 

"Again."

His leg twisted through the air, leaving an arc of fire in his wake. 

"Again."

A large blast pushed Zuko back, for the third time in a row, and Zhao advanced.

The older man wore a ruthless smile, adding his other fist to the next attack, and Zuko couldn't redirect the force. The teen went skidding on his back against the heated deck of the ship. With a faint groan of pain, Zuko looked up, only to gasp when Zhao sliced through the air, landing in front of the boy with an aggravated grunt. 

The taste of blood trickled through Iroh's mouth as he bit his tongue. The first time Zuko had been burned, Iroh couldn't even watch. This time, should Zhao dare to harm the young prince, Iroh would not hesitate. Rules and honour be damned. 

He would give Zhao a scar to match. 

Zuko's golden eyes widened in terror as a blazing fist flew towards his face. And before Iroh could even move, the most beautiful thing happened. 

With a sharp exhale, Zuko shot to his arms, holding himself up as his powerful legs whirled around Zhao. One ankle caught the back of Zhao's foot, sending the commander crashing to the floor, while Zuko used the stolen momentum to land on his feet. 

Something new burned brightly in Zuko's face- something that Iroh knew hadn't been there before. And he watched with pride as the teen continually broke Zhao's root, forcing the older man to step back again and again. 

Zhao went tumbling on his side, head banging across the smooth metal as he hit the floor unceremoniously. Zuko stood over him, arms raised, and stance unmovable. He could've taken out all his anger, frustration, and grief over someone who may have actually deserved some of it. 

But he hesitated. 

"Do it!" Zhao demanded. 

With a fierce grunt, Zuko blackened a patch of metal directly next to Zhao's head, so close that a few stray embers burrowed into the lines of Zhao's face and chest. 

"That's it?" Zhao said, angry disbelief written across his heated face. "Your father raised a coward."

"This was your last chance," Zuko stated, somehow not rising to the bait. "Next time, I won't hold back. Not again."

He walked away.

"Again,” Zuko demanded of his student.

Aang's shoulders slumped, and he turned to look at his teacher with hesitation. Try as he might, the young Avatar could not hide the slight tremor in his hands. 

Beneath uneven bangs, Zuko closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. 

When he still didn't hear Aang move, he dared to say it out loud.

"You're afraid."

Big, grey eyes blinked up at him in confusion. "What?"

Golden eyes opened in response, and Zuko gave Aang a sideways glance. "You're afraid of it. The fire," he clarified. "I can see it in your eyes."

"How did you-?" Aang sputtered, dropping out of a form they had learned from the dragons. 

Zuko shifted slightly, debating on whether or not he should answer, but ultimately stayed quiet. 

Gaze fixed on the ground, the Avatar let out a long sigh. "I already told you. I- I burned Katara," he murmured, breaking the tense silence. 

Seeing Zuko's knowing look, Aang rambled on, simply needing to vent at this point. "And I know the dragons taught us so much. I know that fire doesn't have to be all bad! I used to think it was destruction, and death. I know now that it's life and warmth, but… but it can still be all those bad things, too. It's all of those things at the same time."

He paused and took a deep breath. "Katara forgave me, but what if… what if I…"

"You're afraid to hurt her again," Zuko summarised, taking his student's panic seriously.

"I'm afraid to hurt anyone," Aang lamented, clutching his bald head in his hands. "My fire is still too wild and free. Like… like my airbending. Except air doesn't hurt as easily." He looked up. "You're my sifu, Zuko. What if I hurt you, too?"

Swallowing hard, Zuko shook his head. "You're not going to hurt me."

"You don't know that."

"I do," Zuko insisted, voice growing bitter. "The Fire Lord set my face on fire. My own father, Aang. Short of killing me, there's nothing you could do to hurt me more than that."

Shocked into silence, Aang's eyes settled on the twisted, red scar across the left side of Zuko's head. "He… He did that?" The boy whispered, sounding faint.

"I was… afraid of fire. For a long time," Zuko stumbled, realising for the first time that he'd never told anyone this before. Surely his uncle knew, because his uncle knew everything, but Zuko had never had to use his words. Telling his story was uncomfortable, to say the least. "I couldn't really bend properly for a few years after he- a few years after."

Aang looked at him, fear and sorrow clear across his face. "What changed?" He asked, almost pleading. "How did you… get over it?"

"I guess I never did," Zuko said, looking off to the side. "I just… didn't have a choice. The Fire Lord had ordered me to capture the Avatar, and, well, at the time I assumed you'd have mastered all the elements. I needed to fight you, and I needed to win, and I…" he swallowed. "I needed my fire to do that."

Visibly faltering, Aang said, "Then what do I do?" When Zuko didn't immediately answer, Aang rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, a growl of exasperation leaving his throat. 

"Everyone's expecting me to kill Ozai," he cried out. "But I don't know if I can do it."

"Aang, we've talked about this before-" Zuko started, his own anger flaring up at the continued mention of his father. He moved towards the airbender.

"No!" Aang yelled, which made Zuko reel back in surprise."No, you're not listening! What if- what if I can?"

Scowling, Zuko said, "Can what? What are you talking about?"

"I don't know if I can kill Ozai," Aang repeated, slowly as though he had already spent all of his energy on the mere thought. "But what if I can kill him? What does that make me?"

"What do you mean, what does that make you?" Zuko argued. "It'd make you the Avatar. It would make you a hero!"

Both boys were quiet for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say now that their shouting match had seemingly reached a conclusion.

"If I hurt Katara," Aang whispered. "If I hurt someone I loved, how easy will it be to hurt someone I hate?"

"This is why we practice, Aang," Zuko said, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm his temper. Because he understood- painfully so. "This is why we train. So you can control your fire, and not let it control you. Fire is the element of power, and much like fire, power can consume those who wield it without proper reverence."

Grey eyes looked up, tracing the contours of the mark across Zuko's eye- the evidence of Ozai's own cruelty. Aang stared openly, as though pleading for Zuko to say something else. 

Suddenly self-conscious under his friend's gaze, Zuko turned his face so that Aang only saw the unmarked side of his face.

"Everything heals with time," Zuko finally said, after a long pause. "That's a natural part of growing up, I think."

If only his uncle was there. If only Zuko had listened during the countless times his uncle had tried to tell him these things.

"Time is literally the one thing we don't have a lot of," Aang lamented, scraping his shoe along the ground, now a little embarrassed by his earlier outbursts.

"You just need to believe in yourself, Aang," Zuko said. Then he gave a small smile. Unbidden, his thoughts turned to Iroh once more. "Although… it helps to have someone believe in you first."

At that, the Avatar glanced up again, looking so young and vulnerable with the respect and admiration in his eyes. Zuko didn't want Aang to make the same mistakes he had. He wanted something better for Aang- a better life for all of his friends, in a world they could take pride in. 

"I… care about you, Aang," Zuko told the ground, too awkward to look at the boy before him. "You know that… right?"

And then skinny arms engulfed his torso, and Zuko had to fight the impulse to push the smaller boy away. Instead, he let it happen, telling himself that Aang simply needed assurance. Because Aang was a literal child. Zuko had needed this too, once, and he hadn't taken it. 

In the end, pretending to be invulnerable had gotten him nowhere. 

"Thanks, Zuko," a soft voice told his tunic, and after a moment, the Avatar detached himself from his firebending teacher. With a deep, centring breath, the boy slid back into the stance he had been having difficulties with. Then he looked at Zuko, unsure, but expectant.

A sudden pang of remembrance rushed through the prince, and he saw so much of his younger self in Aang. Just a year older, a little more broken and scarred, but young and scared all the same. He carried weight too heavy for such narrow shoulders, and a title too old and powerful for one so young.

"I think we should stop for the day," Zuko said, abruptly.

"What?" Aang asked, completely caught off-guard. 

"You deserve a break," Zuko forced himself to say. Because as much as he knew it was true, he couldn't halt the anxiety building within him as the day of Sozin's Comet drew nearer. He didn't want Aang to take a break, but he knew that's exactly what the boy needed; because at 13, that's exactly what Zuko had needed.

"Oh," Aang replied, straightening. He looked… relieved, but still a little confused. "Okay. Tomorrow then? At sunrise?"

Nodding, Zuko turned his back to watch the fire in the sky. "At sunrise," he confirmed, half to himself. He thought about all they had accomplished, and all they had yet to do. He thought about the end of a war he had been born into, and he thought about what would happen should Team Avatar fail- again.

"The sun will rise," he mumbled, as if to assure himself. "It'll rise, and we'll try again."


End file.
